


Hello, Stranger

by Qaroll



Series: The Molt Series Bonus Content [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Excerpt(s), First Meetings, Gen, Human Shed Skin, Mar Qaroll, Not Beta Read, Original Character(s), Original Universe, Recruitment, Sepiapunk, Slight Anxiety, Steampunk, The Molt Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 21:54:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21841630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qaroll/pseuds/Qaroll
Summary: [Oneshot]After living as a human for over two decades, Celezar finds himself once more meeting the Lowells in the form of Jean-Luc, the newest leader of the family's inhuman hunters. Sometimes, the ability to sense people's interest in him could be humorous...and damn intriguing.
Series: The Molt Series Bonus Content [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1573609
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8
Collections: Stories by Mar Qaroll





	Hello, Stranger

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:** Another oneshot! So, this is actually from a collection of oneshots from Celezar's perspective telling the story of how he met Jean-Luc called _How the Devil Shed Skin_. I'm not sure if I should upload them _as_ that collection or in the form of individual oneshots. I kind of don't really want to, but I want to. So confusing. We'll see what happens. I might be able to do something about it, if I think hard enough.
> 
> Enjoy~!

It wasn't intentionally significant, the day they met.

Celezar lived in the Memorraw, a large hunter outpost in Michigan, having left the Visce Hunters. Twenty-five years had passed since he first took male human form. He was now fully-versed in the ways of both a human and an inhuman hunter—and, more specifically, a _human_ inhuman hunter.

The sister duo who were the leaders of the Memorraw's hunters, Cher and Inez Licht, were more than willing to accommodate him, as the outpost's massive guest suites were suited for wanderers such as him. The downside was, be it he wasn't a member of the Licht Hunters, he had no income. Whatever hunts he took part in were simply him earning his keep. He didn't mind it, as he had board, room and food. But what he wished for was to find a new group to settle into.

Then, the Lowell Hunters arrived.

The group of three was expected, and Celezar was also privy of their visit. When he wished it—and it wasn't often that he did—he could know everything and anything that was going on within the outpost. It was as simple as stretching the limits of his senses or divulging into the minds of those around him. That allowed him to know the reason the Lowell Hunters were there. Apparently, the group recently lost some of their men and were looking to replenish their ranks. The Memorraw was a wonderful place to find wandering hunters of all calibres, which brought them there.

Celezar took his time as he ambled towards the quieter, less occupied area that was the main entrance before the barracks. Walking past the operator desk, he looked for a nice, isolated spot where he could settle while waiting for the group to show up. Without a doubt, they would shortly arrive to scout for new members; everyone knew the wanderers could be found in this barracks.

Other hunters were present, conversing, playing cards or chess, and generally keeping occupied. There was a small area where two chairs sat in a corner for reading books along with a small coffee table. Celezar immediately took one of the chairs and moved to a different, empty corner to sit. He then tilted his hat over his face and decided to rest.

Being a hybrid of his breeding, he couldn't truly sleep on most occasions unless he was conscious of it. Otherwise, all he could do was rest, remaining aware of what was going on around him. So, he receded into his mind, letting his body relax in the chair. Before fully detaching, he folded his arms over his chest, tucking his hands under his arms. If anyone asked, he drank too much. That much was somewhat true.

And he waited.

All the while, he considered how fortunate he was. Lowell. _The_ Lowells. He was too familiar with the family, having served their ancestor, Alan Lowell, almost over two hundred years ago. There was no human left in the world who would know that. Despite all the time he spent as a human, he admittedly did little research into the current Lowell family. From what people were talking about in their minds, the family was still renowned for their magic. That was good.

What little he knew about them told him they were still renowned for their magic. That was good. But despite this, they were not the same Lowells he had served those centuries ago. For one, he didn't know any members of the current family or what they were like. They were supposedly cruel and brutal, vicious and indiscriminate towards inhumans, killing them without even a thought towards mercy.

That was worrying, reasonably disheartening.

It was interesting, what some humans did when they were disheartened. Obviously, they could do one of many things—perhaps too many—but from what he knew from his circle of human companions, in his particular brand of disheartened, he would drink alcohol. And so, he did. It wasn't much, just enough to give his human body a pleasant tipsiness, and then he retreated into the room. He didn't have to fear for alcohol on his breath, as his inhuman saliva prevented that, but he also didn't want anyone asking him questions later.

He suddenly heard his name called. His body stirred as he opened his eyes, looking up into the darkness within his hat. The soft sound of footsteps approached. He counted at least four men, with one wearing spurs on their boots. Interesting.

"Celezar, man." Someone kicked his foot, and he grunted.

"What?" he grumbled, lifting his hat by a bit to let an eye peek out.

Standing a respectful distance from him were three men he had never seen before. At the front was a man with a blond hair and a unique shade of electric blue eyes looking at him with fleeting interest. So, he was putting on a bad first impression, was he? Celezar looked to the man closest to him, who was the one who gave him a kick.

The man was Tuomas Kuoppala, his acquaintance in the Memorraw. He was a middle-aged man who liked to look after the vagrants. Dark brown eyes narrowed. "Are you drunk?"

"No." With a sigh, Celezar replaced his hat and sat upright. His vision was slightly obscured. "What is it, Tom?"

"These are guests from Isle Veni, the Lowell Hunters."

Celezar let one of his eyes glance up at him.

"They're looking for men and I thought of you." Tuomas moved to motion to the blond-haired man in front. "This is Jean-Luc Lowell, their leader."

Raising his head, Celezar took a good look at them. When his face became visible, he sensed Jean-Luc's interest rise, more than what was normal. It was the interest of _attraction_. How quaint. The man seemed to be a few years younger than Celezar's human form, maybe twenty-five. The two men at Jean-Luc's sides were older, almost if not middle-aged. One had the same color of blue eyes as Jean-Luc, and the other wore an eyepatch over his right and gave Celezar a critical stare. They seemed...expectant, only for their expectations to be steadily lessening.

He sighed, moving to stand upright. "What did you tell them about me, Tom?" he asked long-sufferingly. "I imagine I'm not putting on a good impression."

Tuomas grinned, and the other men raised their eyebrows while watching Celezar stand. "For one, I told them you can read faces like an open book, and you proved that much," he chuckled, looking up at him.

"Yeah, yeah." Celezar rolled his shoulders, brushing off the compliment. He stepped forward, eyeing the men. It was times like these he was glad he made the choice to make his human form taller than average. He stood at six-foot-eight, more than a touch taller than all of them. Jean-Luc seemed to like this. Celezar couldn't help but make a sly little grin.

Jean-Luc took notice but nodded at him. "Tuomas indeed told us much about you."

"Nothing bad, I hope." Celezar raised a brow at his companion, who laughed heartily.

"Even when I did, they remained interested," said Tuomas. He beckoned them over to a recently vacated table. The men sat in five of the six chairs, with Jean-Luc and the other two men sitting across from Celezar and Tuomas.

"You're from the Visce Hunters?" Jean-Luc asked. At the nod, he said, "I've never heard of them. Where are they from?"

Tilting his hat further back on his head, Celezar gave a small, understanding smile. "They're not from Clovure, but from England. I came from overseas with them."

Tuomas held up a hand. "Trust me on this, Jean. You'll never have another guy like him again."

Celezar nudged him. "Enough. It's fine if this is a pass."

Leaning back in his chair, Jean-Luc hummed softly, as if considering. "Why did you leave the Visces?"

"We had a disagreement about inhumans." Celezar made a face, glancing away. It was easy to lie. "It wasn't pretty."

Jean-Luc briefly closed his eyes. "It's never 'pretty' when talking about inhumans. How many years do you have behind you?"

"Four. That a problem?"

"Not at all. I'm looking for competent men, little else. So long as you're willing and capable of taking orders." Jean-Luc beckoned to the twin swords hanging from Celezar's belt. "Tuomas said your agility could rival an inhuman's." He gave a little grin at the clear "absurdity" of such a statement.

Oh, if only they knew.

Scoffing, Celezar leaned back. "I wish."

Nodding, Jean-Luc's smile became slightly lopsided. "I'm quite willing to let you join based on what Tuomas told me, alone. I can use a man worth two. Can you promise me his words are true?" He pointedly stared at Celezar, ignoring the man in question.

Celezar gave a sure nod, with a bit of cockiness just for show. "I can."

Jean-Luc tilted his head slightly to the side, nodding a bit. "Though...It does have me wondering why no one's taken you yet, if you're so skilled."

Celezar shrugged. "No one comes here too often for us drifters. Why, I've no idea. So many of us are well-rounded, experienced and skilled."

Both older men at Jean-Luc's sides looked at their leader. It was, in the end, his decision. He glanced at them before easily making up his mind, nodding his head. "Then, you're willing to come with us?"

"Absolutely. What's the layout?"

"Weekly pay, a bed in the barracks, three fresh meals a day."

Celezar smiled with appreciation. While it was the usual setup, a hunter couldn't ask for much else. "When do we leave?"

"We're still looking for at least two more men, so shortly after that. But you say there's plenty of potential here?"

" _Plenty_." Celezar slightly leaned forward. "I'm sure you'll find someone within the hour."

Jean-Luc raised a brow, but he inclined his head. "I'll take your word for it." He beckoned to the door. "Whenever you're ready, you can take your belongings to the hangar."

Celezar saluted with two fingers. "Yes, sir."

Making a face, Jean-Luc emitted a soft sound of irritation. "Not 'sir'. Jean is fine."

Humming, settling in his chair, Celezar gave a cheeky smile. "Yes, Boss."

His new leader blinked, then softly chuckled, reclining in the chair again. "That'll do."


End file.
